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The rush in his voice told her he didn't know. And she felt even worse. Maybe hehadknown her father. He was old enough.
She looked over his body, seeing he was tense, which meant he really wanted an answer. So, she sighed.
"He's at Pere Lachaise Cemetery. He died six months ago."
She watched his eyes widen in shock. She knew the look well. She wore the same one when she found out the news.
FIVE
STRAP
Strap felt sick hearing those words. He was dead. How had he not known that? Better yet, why did he care? He shouldn't care.
He should be happy that he died after everything that he'd done. He double-crossed him. He should hope that his death was slow and painful.
Yet, I don't. I don’t hope that at all.
He took a deep breath, unsure of what to say. What did you say to that?
I should hate him. I should be jumping with happiness that he's dead and buried six feet deep. I should be laughing that he got what he deserved.
But I'm not. I feel…let down. Like I had unfinished business, I was wishing to talk about it. Why do I feel like that?
She looked at him with watchful eyes, and the gun still rested in her hand, fully ready to be used. The sight of her sent his blood thrumming again, though, pulling hard at his two shifter sides. It made it difficult to focus on anything but his need for her.
"That doesn't answer my question of why you wanted to speak to him," she repeated once more. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What did you want with him?"
Retribution? A fight? A screaming match, maybe? I don't know.
He’d been locked up so long, and the anger sat there and stewed, but now that he was out and knew he’d never speak to his mentor again … he didn’t know what he wanted.
He pinched his nose, frustrated with himself. His temper … like most shifters … tended to get the better of him. Strap should have reconciled how he felt before all this, but he hadn't. Then he looked at her and wondered how she knew Mick. How did she know more about Mick than he did?
"What is your connection with him?" he asked.
She turned, walked into the kitchen, and set the gun down. She tilted her head, watching him. She stood silent for a moment before she shrugged. "I guess there’s no point in lying about it. Granger was my father."
He stilled, soaking her words in.
She leaned onto the counter, waving a hand. "I was named after him. Michelle, Mickey, was close enough to Michel. My mother met him on a one-night stand when she was staying in France during her senior trip. She never intended to stay in Europe, let alone get pregnant."
She moved, opened a cabinet, and pulled out a blender. He watched her turn to the fridge and pull the doors open. His eyes took in her frame. Mickey was certainly God gifted with her breasts and her ass. She walked around as if she knew it too. With each step, her hips swayed, and her breasts bounced.
She continued with her story as she rummaged through the fridge. "I guess she never felt the need to tell me who he was. Well, I'm rather sure she didn't tell me because he was a criminal."
You're one to talk. You followed in your father's footsteps pretty well. It must run in the blood.
She pulled out spinach and milk. He took in the fruit and items as she tossed them into the blender.
"I was just graduating from college in California when I got a letter in the mail. I also got a phone call from a French lawyer. Who, by the way, I was sure hadn't been laid in years because he sounded like a complete dick."
He raised an eyebrow, and she shook her head.
"Anyway, he said that I had inherited the estate of Michel Jean Granger. He had passed away and left everything to me. So, I moved to Europe to figure out what I was going to do."
He stared at her in amazement. She was Michel's daughter? He could see it now that she had stated it. She had the same bright blue eyes and deep brown hair. She even had his tan complexion.
He suddenly felt his cock ache for her. He had already felt that pull when he first met her, both an attraction and the mating call from his joint-shifter sides begging for her, but to see her wearing the form-fitting clothes, she had nearly ended him.
